


My Couch Potato

by ConsequentialGamer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsequentialGamer/pseuds/ConsequentialGamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roderich lowered the shoe.<br/>“You have thirty seconds to explain why you’re in my apartment.”</p><p> </p><p>When Roderich Edelstein woke up to find someone had broken into his apartment, he didn't expect to befriend the intruder or ever desire to see him again. Especially not when he was the loud and brash Gilbert Beilschmidt.<br/>(Do you get it. The title's a pun. Because Gilbert and Ludwig and potatoes. I'm sorry. It's awful and it's all I could think of. I'm mildly ashamed. BTW, rating may change and characters may be added.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is. My first multi-chapter fic that might actually go somewhere! I didn't want to post it until I was done but hey, I have three chapter done so I figured why not? I apologize that this first one is so short; the others are much longer. This was inspired by this tumblr post (http://erufu.tumblr.com/post/85468808332) shown to me by a friend. 
> 
> "i really want an 'i accidentally broke into your house/apartment because my friend lives next door to you and i was in the area, drunk, and i thought i was climbing into the right window and falling asleep on the right couch (and i did wonder when my friend got two cats but i didn’t question it) so now i’m hungover and shirtless in your living room so um hi howya doin' au"

Roderich was abruptly woken from his first pleasant slumber in weeks by loud, obnoxious heavy metal music. Sitting up, he reached blindly for his glasses, stuffing them on his face and getting to his feet. He shuffled out of his bedroom and assumed that it was his rowdy neighbors again: Antonio was fairly quiet and kind when he was alone, but that all changed when his friends came over. Fully prepared to shout at him for making so much noise at such an early hour, Roderich charged to his front door and nearly missed the fact that the music was coming from inside his own apartment.

The music abruptly stopped and a groggy voice rose from his couch. “Ello?”

Silence filled the apartment again and Roderich snatched the closest weapon to him, which was really only a shoe. He stepped slowly toward the couch, unable to see over the back of it. Whoever was lying there mumbled a few more words into what he assumed was a phone. Without a glance to see who it was, Roderich brought the shoe down on the head of his unwelcome house guest.

With a shout, the intruder dropped his phone and covered his head, standing. He turned quickly to glare at Roderich, with a sharp retort on his tongue, and then his eyes widened. “You…you’re not Antonio.”

Roderich refrained from hitting the man again only because he seemed to recognize him as one of his neighbor’s obnoxious friends. He scowled, trying to hide his initial shock at how _red_ the man’s eyes were. And not the whites of his eyes (though those were very red, possibly from exhaustion), but his pupils. Coupled with his pale skin, which was very much exposed thanks to his lack of a shirt, and even paler hair, he was a sight. Roderich lowered the shoe.

“You have thirty seconds to explain why you’re in my apartment.”

The man (what was his name? Gideon? Gibby? Oh it didn’t matter) looked startled. “I was hoping you could explain that to me!” His accent was thick, German. “I was really drunk and I…oh. Huh.” A look of realization dawned on his face and then he started laughing, as if he’d heard the funniest joke.

The fuming homeowner raised the shoe again in a warning, and the German man held up his hands. “Wait, wait. It’s all just a misunderstanding!”

He looked around for his shirt as he spoke, still grinning like a mad man. “I got shitfaced last night, and told Antonio I was heading over there because my brother doesn’t let me come home after 1 in the morning if I’m drunk. So I just picked his lock and crashed on the couch like I usually do. But I guess I was one door off. Funny, huh?”

Roderich stared at him, slowly lowering the shoe. “No, not funny at all. Get out of my apartment.”

The man finally found his shirt and pulled it over his head. Once his head was through the fabric, he stuck his hand out. “I’m Gilbert, by the way.”

“I said get the hell out!” Roderich shouted, pushing Gilbert toward the door. The unwelcome guest laughed and gave him a salute out the door. Roderich listened to him walk a few feet and bang on the door. He didn’t have to wait long before the door flung open and Antonio began shouting about how worried he’d been when his drunken friend didn’t show up.

Roderich shook his head and slid down against the door, taking off his glasses to rub at his heavy eyes. _Why me?_ He thought desperately. After some time on the hard tile, he stood and decided to attempt to get another precious hour of sleep before his alarm. Saturdays were his days off and he tried to make the most of them. As soon as his head hit the pillow, Roderich fell asleep, with the sound of a certain German’s laugh ringing in his ear from next door.

\----

Sometime around noon, while Roderich was eating his lunch and reading the paper, there was a knock at his door. Reluctant to answer, he finally stood and shuffled to the door, staring through the peephole. Antonio was standing in the hallway, looking a little sheepish. With a sigh, Roderich unlocked and opened the door. “Good afternoon, Antonio.”

His Spanish neighbor gave him an apologetic smile. “Hey, Roderich. I just wanted to apologize for Gilbert’s behavior. He’s a handful but he really meant no harm. It was just a mix-up.”

Roderich sipped at his coffee, peering at Antonio over the edge of the mug. He finally lowered it and answered. “It’s alright. I would have much preferred an apology from him but I’ll take what I can get. Let him know that if it happens again, I’ll be sure to do something worse than hit him with a shoe.”

Antonio grinned. “I’ll pass the message along. Have a good day, Roderich.” He gave a slight half wave as he retreated back to his own apartment, shutting the door with a quiet click. Roderich did the same, sitting at his table once more to finish his lunch. He hoped he’d never see that German nuisance again.


	2. Sick Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I only posted the first chapter yesterday, but I decided to go ahead and post the next one so you wouldn't be left with the choppy first one. I'm still not used to writing stories that exceed 1000 words, and this chapter alone is over 1100. So I hope you enjoy it. :)

A few days had passed since the incident and Roderich had managed to push it out of his mind to properly throw himself into his work. He had a huge piano recital in the near future, and many directors and talent scouts would be attending. Roderich was certain that this was what he needed; this small push could get him forever out of the small venues and into the spotlight.

His piano was his life. Ever since he could remember, back home in Austria, Roderich had grown up around instruments. Every member of his extensive family played something and he’d been no exception to the allures of music. As soon as he’d been old enough to learn and play the piano, he’d been enchanted by its beauty and the thrill he got at knowing he could make such amazing melodies by pressing a few keys.

Roderich had moved to the states after graduating university, hoping for some opportunities he couldn’t get in Austria, chasing dreams that might not come true. But his parents supported his hopes and had helped him through his first year. Now he was on his own. He taught lessons on some days, and performed at small venues on others. His talent was known around town, and he’d even been a big deal throughout the entirety of the state of New York for a few months after being invited to play in the local orchestra. Now he was being given another opportunity; his next performance would be attended by directors of national and international groups, searching for new talent. Of course he wasn’t the only one that would be on stage that night, but Roderich knew he had the talent to be noticed.

That rainy Wednesday afternoon, however, found Roderich in a local CVS, bundled up in a scarf and a hat, staring miserably at the rows of cold medicine in front of him. Too concerned for his upcoming recital, he’d neglected to watch out for his health. And that was a first. Roderich had run himself ragged and come down with a nasty illness that he hoped would blow over within the next week. He was too busy peering at all the labels and claims to notice someone behind him.

“Hey, Roddy!” A loud, obnoxious, and all too familiar voice made Roderich flinch and want to run. Instead, he just turned his miserable eyes to Gilbert as he approached, too tired to give him anything resembling a smart remark. “Please don’t call me that. You slept on my couch once. We’re not friends.”

Gilbert winked at him. “I mean, we don’t have to be friends. If you want to do more than _sleep_ on the couch…”

Roderich blanched at the man’s boldness. He grabbed a random box of cold medicine and stormed down the aisle of the drugstore. “You are so crude! Don’t talk to me!” He called over his shoulder, stuffy nose taking some of the bite out of his words. He was followed by the sound of sneakers and a few annoying laughs.

“You don’t really mean that, do you?” The taller man did a fairly admirable impression of an injured puppy. Roderich backpedalled at the sight, shocked for a moment. He was concerned that he’d really hurt the German’s feelings, before remembering that he didn’t care. He shouldn’t care. He continued his angry march to the register, checking out and picking up his bag.

All the while, Gilbert stood with him, following him to the door and out into the rain. Roderich made a point of ignoring him as he walked to the bus stop and sat down pointedly on the bench, glad for the shelter. Gilbert broke out of his mopey state, confused. “What are you doing?”

Roderich scowled at him and pulled his scarf tighter. “Riding the public transit. Are you really that stupid or do you just not realize that some people don’t have their own means for transportation?” The bite in his words brought on a coughing fit, which left Roderich nearly doubled over and looking miserable. Gilbert bit his lip, watching the suffering man with an almost sympathetic expression. “Let me drive you home,” he offered, smiling slightly at Roderich’s shocked and suspicious face.

“I know where you live, and I was heading there anyway to drop some things off for Antonio. You’re really sick, and those buses are disgusting. Besides, I sorta owe you after I crashed on your couch.” Gilbert rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, looking to the side.

Roderich considered the offer. He wanted to turn it down, but he was really not looking forward to the ride home on the bus. After some slight hesitation, he rose to his feet. “Fine. That’s very kind of you. But keep your rude comments to yourself or I’ll be forced to cough on you and get you sick and possibly also castrate you.”

Gilbert cracked a smile, surprising Roderich with how nice it made the other man look. It was a pure smile, without any of his usual biting sarcasm or horrid sense of humor. He followed the German to his car. It was old and beat up, but it was more than the bicycle Roderich owned. Once in the car, Roderich pulled off his wet hat and unwrapped his scarf from his neck. He settled into the seat, and closed his eyes, thankful that Gilbert had decided to keep his mouth shut. He was exhausted and the warmth of the car was inviting.

When Roderich opened his eyes again, he was lying in bed, jacket discarded in a pile with his other outerwear. Curled up in the warmth of his bed, he didn't want to leave, but a thought jarred him into full awareness. The last thing he remembered, he’d been given a ride by Gilbert and started drifting off to sleep. Swearing under his breath, Roderich stood and went out to the living area of his apartment, eyes sweeping the room. Nothing looked out of order, minus the CVS bag on the counter. Deciding to take some of the medicine to clear his head, and having deemed that he was in fact alone in his apartment, Roderich made his way to the bag. Next to it was a note, written in surprisingly neat script.

_You looked like you needed the sleep._

_-Gilbert_

Roderich stared at it, flipping it over in his hands and trying to figure out what it meant. So Gilbert really had carried him up to the apartment. It seemed so inconsistent with the brash and obnoxious opinion Roderich had of him. Maybe he really had gotten the wrong impression that morning…Trying not to think too much into it, Roderich downed some cold medicine and went back to bed to sleep it off, trying not to think of the mysterious changing behaviors of the white haired man.


	3. Dinner Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't write dates. i'm really lame

Roderich had finally made a full recovery thanks to the cold medicine and the extra sleep he allowed himself. He’d returned to giving lessons, meeting the students at their schools to teach violin and piano. In fact, he was in the middle of one such lesson when his phone exploded into a heavy metal song. Flustered by the interruption, he gestured for the girl to continue playing, answering his phone without a glance at the ID. “Hello?”

“Roddy! Glad you picked up!” Gilbert’s loud voice rang in his ear. “Hope you don’t mind but I put myself in your phone that one time when you passed out in my car. I even changed the ringtone so you’ll always know it’s me calling.” Roderich took his glasses off and rubbed his temples. That made more sense; Gilbert wouldn’t just carry someone to their bed without getting something in return for his efforts. It seemed the only way he enjoyed life was by messing with other people. “Fine. What do you want?” Roderich hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but Gilbert hardly seemed to notice.

“I figured I still owe you after that night, right. And being as awesome as I am, I thought about the two things budding musicians like. And since I couldn’t find you any good lessons—” Roderich grit his teeth and huffed indignantly. Gilbert continued with a laugh. “I figured I’d buy you some food or something. Tomorrow night. Dress up nice and I’ll come pick you up.”

Roderich couldn’t hide his amusement. “Gilbert, if you wanted to ask me out you could have just asked. I would have said no, but you didn’t have to make up an excuse.” He listened with a smile as Gilbert stumbled over his words. “What? Of course I don’t want to ask you out! I’m just trying to be nice. I’ll pick you up at 7.” The line clicked dead, signaling Roderich had been hung up on. He chuckled and slipped his phone into his pocket after silencing it. He returned to his student and told her to play the song again, from the beginning.

\----

Roderich wasn’t sure how to dress, afraid of wearing something inappropriate. Gilbert’s definition of “nice” was probably nothing like his own definition. He finally settled on a pale blue dress shirt with a dark green tie and his nice slacks. It was a safe outfit; he could ditch his tie and call it casual if Gilbert deemed him overdressed. As he combed his hair one last time, cursing his cowlick that refused to stay down, there was a knock at the door. Well, more like a banging.

 “Roderich! Let’s go! I’m coming in!” The lock jiggled and before he could argue, the door flew open and Gilbert burst inside. He was a flurry of movement; buttoning his shirt with one hand while hopping around and attempting to tie his shoe with the other hand. It was a comical sight. Roderich couldn’t contain his laughter as Gilbert tripped over his other untied laces and landed with a thud on the floor. “We’re gonna be so late,” he grumbled to himself, finally letting both his hands focus on his shoes.

Roderich watched him with amusement, noting the time. It was 7:15. He’d been too absorbed in getting ready that he hadn’t noticed the clock ticking by. It seemed that something similar happened to Gilbert, as the man was still practically dressing in his living room. “Do you need any help?” He asked, grinning despite himself.

Gilbert looked up at him with a scowl. “I can dress myself perfectly well, thank you very much.” He finally finished buttoning his dark red shirt, leaving the top button undone. His tie, black with silver threads inlaid, hung loosely around his neck as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. “There. Done. Now let’s go.” He grabbed Roderich’s arm and steered him outside, to the waiting car.

Roderich sat down in the passenger seat, still grinning. “So, where are we going?” He didn’t get an answer until they were out on the street, going well over the limit. “Francis’ restaurant. You know, that nice French place,” Gilbert said offhandedly, more focused on weaving through traffic and avoiding lights. Roderich’s eyes widened slightly.

“Isn’t that fairly expensive?” He asked, suddenly feeling underdressed and worried. Then he was wishing he hadn’t asked at all. Gilbert looked a little uncomfortable with the question and Roderich decided that he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He was going to receive a nice meal and then they’d be on their way. Gilbert finally glanced over at him. “Yeah…But I totally get discounts and stuff.”

Roderich rolled his eyes slightly but smiled. Of course. He wasn’t surprised in the least by the statement. Francis was more than willing to give discounted meals to his friends, and Gilbert was happy to take them. That seemed more like the Gilbert he was used to having run-ins with. He leaned his head back against the seat and watched the night life begin around them. As the sun went down, the fluorescent lights glowed. This was nothing compared to New York City, which Roderich had been to a few times. It was almost like there was a balance in this city; enough lights to not leave you in total darkness, but if you looked up you could still see the stars on a clear night.

Eventually, they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant; Bonnefoy’s. Cheesy, considering Francis named it after himself, but it was still quite the high end restaurant and well-known, even in New York City. Gilbert opted out of the valet parking and parked in an empty employee’s space, courtesy of Francis. Roderich followed him inside, marveling at the interior of the restaurant. Before Gilbert could ask for the reservation, a loud voice called to them. “Gilbert!”

Roderich turned toward the sound and saw the man himself, Francis Bonnefoy. He was waving from across the room, gesturing for them to follow him. Gilbert mumbled something under his breath and began walking over, Roderich trailing behind. Francis smiled warmly at them, guiding them to a booth in a secluded corner. Once they were seated, he winked at Gilbert. “I’ll get the wine, _oui_?” Before Gilbert could say otherwise, Francis was gone. The German man grumbled under his breath again. “Knew this was a bad idea.”

“Why?” Roderich peered at him, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He never got an answer though, because Gilbert had placed his head on the table. Confused, Roderich touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?” He waited and waited but didn’t get an answer. He sighed and crossed his arms. He’d probably never understand the other man and his weird behaviors.

Francis eventually returned, placing an expensive looking wine on the table. “On the house. You’re probably going to need it.” He gave Roderich a sympathetic look and left them alone once more. Roderich watched Gilbert for a few moments. “Are you going to sit there like that all night? Because I was hoping we wouldn’t have to eat in silence.”

Gilbert finally sat up, reaching for the wine. “Okay, okay. At least let me drink first.” He helped himself to a large glass of wine, downing most of it in just a few gulps. _Clearly he doesn’t have many dinner manners,_ Roderich mused with a slight smile. He suddenly realized he found Gilbert’s behavior…endearing. He quickly poured a generous amount for himself and took a few sips before setting the wine glass on the table, hoping he wouldn’t have any more of those kinds of thoughts. He didn’t find Gilbert endearing. Nothing about his personality was remotely attractive. Roderich kept telling himself that over and over, as he finished his entire wine glass in the span of five minutes.

Feeling a little emboldened by the alcohol, Roderich watched Gilbert for a few moments. “I figure that if we’re going to have a pleasant evening, we should get to know each other better.” Gilbert looked hesitant. “Okay…but don’t expect a sappy life story or anything like that.”

Roderich chuckled slightly. “Alright then. When did you move to America?” “When I was ten,” Gilbert answered easily, reaching for his wine again. “You mentioned your brother that one time,” Roderich prompted, waiting for a response. Gilbert raised an eyebrow as he poured another drink for himself. He finally realized that the Austrian expected an answer. “Ludwig. My younger brother. He’s three years younger, still in school.”  Before Roderich could ask any more questions, a waiter had arrived to take their order. A bit at a loss with the menu before him, which he hadn’t even opened, Roderich was immensely relieved when Gilbert came to his rescue to order for him.

“Thanks,” he said after the waiter had left them alone, a bit ashamed at his inability to do something as simple as order food. Roderich cleared his throat and took a few sips of his wine. He was saved from further conversation by the arrival of Francis once again. “Well, it appears that we’re a little shorthanded. A different waiter will be by to bring you your food.” He was positively grinning like a madman.

At those words, Gilbert sat up like something had stung him. “What’s today?”

“Friday,” Francis answered with a barely concealed smirk.

Gilbert looked mortified. “Are you serious? Please tell me you’re joking.” He groaned and slouched in the seat. “Don’t you dare send either of them to our table. I’m not kidding. Francis! Stop laughing!” He snapped at the Frenchman, who was snickering behind his hand.

“Oh, _mon cher,_ I have no say in which tables they tend to. I wish you the best of luck with this.” Francis turned on his heel and practically skipped away, ignoring Gilbert who was shouting at him. Roderich pulled him back down into his seat. “Calm down! What’s gotten into you?” Gilbert put his head in his hands. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to die tonight.”

Roderich tried to get a conversation out of Gilbert but it was no use. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. After a long silence, their new waiter arrived with their dinner, and he looked down at Gilbert, confused. “What are you doing here?” Roderich noted the two had the same thick accents. And they even looked remarkably similar…his face lit up. “Oh! Gilbert, is this your brother? Nice to meet you. I’m Roderich.” He held out his hand.

The blonde man shook his hand carefully. “Roderich? The Roderich whose apartment he broke into?”

“Yes, that’d be me.” He gave Gilbert’s brother a slight smile while Gilbert began to bang his head methodically against the table.

Ludwig looked down at his brother, setting the plates down. “Is he bothering you, Roderich? Because I can—” “Oh no, no. He invited me tonight to make up for the apartment fiasco.” Ludwig still looked a little unconvinced. “Alright. I’ll let you get on with your…date.” He only smiled slightly and left when Gilbert snapped at him that it was _not,_ in fact, a date. He muttered under his breath and grabbed his fork, stabbing at his food. Roderich was nothing less than amused. “Your brother works here?”

Gilbert scraped his fork across the plate. “That didn’t happen. Okay? Forget about that. Don’t talk about it.” He shoveled food into his mouth, leaving no room for further arguments.

Roderich chuckled and followed suit with his own dish, but with more manners. Eventually, Gilbert stopped sulking and opened up. The wine might have been part of it, but Roderich didn’t complain. They shared stories of their adventures in America when they’d first moved. Unlike Roderich, Gilbert hadn’t really known much English prior to moving to the States. It wasn’t long before he’d made friends, though, and the only time he was teased for it, Antonio and Francis had helped him beat the other boy into an apology. Gilbert was in the middle of retelling the way the bigger boy had peed himself when Francis approached their table, sliding the bill to him. It had already been paid in full. Gilbert furrowed his brow. “Francis, this—” “ _Non,_ do not worry about it. Have a good evening.” Francis winked at his friend and left them alone again.

Gilbert set the bill down with a shrug and stood, sliding out of the booth. Roderich was right behind him, a little unsteady on his feet. He was a light weight after all, and he definitely didn’t drink as often as Gilbert. The German smirked slightly and helped him walk outside to the car, opening the passenger door for him. Roderich smiled as he clicked the seatbelt into place. “Thank you.” Gilbert nodded and settled into the driver’s seat, putting the car in gear and pulling out of the lot.

Roderich realized he must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes again, he was being carried up a flight of stairs. He laughed slightly, pushing on Gilbert’s chest and insisting he could walk. “Honestly, with the amount of times I’ve fallen asleep in your car, you should just start dumping me on the sidewalk.” In the half light of the stairwell, he saw an amused twinkle in Gilbert’s eyes. “Maybe. But I don’t mind.” Roderich’s breath caught in his throat and he was suddenly aware of how close they were standing, and that his hand still rested on Gilbert’s chest.

Later, Roderich would tell himself it was the alcohol. Maybe just a little curiosity, but that was all. There were definitely not any deeper feelings, no hidden desire to do what he did ever again…oh who was he kidding. No matter what the explanation really was, the truth of the matter was that Roderich had leaned into Gilbert and kissed him. It was clumsy, but not unpleasant. Gilbert held him up with an arm around his waist, kissing him back, kneading his side gently with his fingers. Roderich could taste the alcohol on his breath when their mouths slid open. Roderich grabbed at his hair, bringing their faces closer and slightly up on his toes. He smiled against the other man’s lips and everything about the heated kiss was perfect. When they finally broke apart to breathe, Roderich stepped back, adjusting his glasses with a blush. Gilbert smiled.

“Make sure you get back to the right apartment,” he joked. He leaned in and Roderich expected another breathtaking kiss. Instead, he felt Gilbert’s lips press to his forehead. “Good night, Roderich.” When he opened his eyes again, Roderich realized he was alone. He reached a hand out and found the railing, using it to guide himself up the last set of stairs. Down the hall, through his apartment, into his bedroom. Roderich was hardly aware of where he was going. It was all automatic.

He took off his glasses and curled up in bed with a smile on his face.


	4. And So Love Progresses...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a short filler chapter than anything, and for that I apologize. As the title of the chapter says it's also something of a progression chapter so that their relationship can be deepened in just one chapter so that we can get to the better things a bit sooner.   
> I don't plan on this being a very long fic, so their relationship is being bumped up a little. And also, I apologize for the length of this one.

When Roderich woke up the next morning, he was pleasantly surprised at his lack of a hangover. Of course, he’d had alcohol before and been drunk but it was a nice feeling to wake up and not want to hide in a dark room all day. He’d slept through his alarm and the sun was high by the time he rolled out of bed, but despite the dull throb at the base of his skull, he was no worse for wear. He stood and took a few Aspirin before getting into the shower and thinking about the… _not-date._

He’d kissed Gilbert. He’d kissed Gilbert, and Gilbert had kissed him back. He wasn’t sure how he’d felt about that. Roderich had only ever kissed his friend Elizabeta, back in high school. They’d been close friends and simply curious. It hadn’t been a negative experience, but Roderich realized it paled in comparison to what he’d felt when his lips had touched Gilbert’s. He’d never put much thought into relationships, and he wasn’t even sure of his sexuality. He wanted a firm job and a steady income before he could worry about dating. But it seemed he wasn’t given that luxury, because Gilbert had arrived in his life and he wasn’t too keen on leaving.

Roderich eventually stepped out of the shower and toweled his hair before putting on a robe. Feeling a bit childish, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw a smiley face on his steamed up mirror. He laughed and retrieved his glasses from his nightstand, heading into the kitchen. He was starting the coffee machine when someone knocked on his door. Roderich raised an eyebrow and went to open the door without checking to see who it was.

Gilbert grinned. “Morning, Roddy. I brought breakfast.” He walked inside and presented the grocery bags in his arms. He dumped their contents on the table, setting a case of German beer next to it. Roderich ignored the nickname in favor of looking at Gilbert’s “breakfast.” There was a pile of assorted chocolate bars, a few packages of sausages, and a bottle of Aspirin. “Please don’t tell me this is what you eat for breakfast,” Roderich pleaded, grinning.

Gilbert shook his head and sat down at the table. “Not always. But this is my perfect hangover cure! Everything you need, plus more alcohol. It’s the Awesome Beilschmidt Hangover Kit.” He tossed a package of sausages to Roderich. “Cook those up, Roddy!”

Roderich rolled his eyes and set it on the counter. “Even if I had a hangover, which I don’t, I’m pretty sure this would make me feel worse.” But he still brought out a pan to cook the meat. “And besides, I don’t remember inviting you over for breakfast. Some of us actually have work to do, you know.” Gilbert waved a hand at him as he took a bite of a candy bar.

“Then I’ll just keep you company. You’re such a stuck up sometimes so you need me to make you take breaks.” He reclined in his chair and crossed his feet on the table.

Roderich shook his head slightly as he cooked the sausages. Whether or not there was now something between them, Gilbert was in his life and he didn’t seem too keen on leaving anytime soon.

\----

A week had passed and Roderich was spending his day in the music hall as usual, working. He scribbled at his composition again, sighing in exasperation. He set the pencil down and played a few keys, shaking his head. “No, no that’s wrong.” He changed the notes, eyes closed as he played again. That sounded better… He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He needed a break and placed his glasses back on his nose to find Gilbert. True to his word, Gilbert had done his best to keep Roderich from working himself into the ground in the past week. But he left him alone for the most part; Roderich had explained how important it all was and Gilbert had been content to entertain himself with other things in the music hall. Roderich questioned if the other man even had a job, considering he’d done nothing but accompany him every day.

Sweeping his music sheets into their folder, Roderich stood and followed the sound of a drum beat. He opened the door to the percussion room to see Gilbert playing at a drum set. He was absentmindedly tapping out a beat, and stopped when he spotted Roderich. “Can we get lunch? I’m starving.” Gilbert stood and hurried over expectantly.

Roderich smirked. “Sure. But we’re going back to my apartment.” He followed Gilbert out to the parking lot of the university he practiced at, thankful he didn’t have to use public transportation anymore. The college had open doors in their music hall so long as the instruments were respected. Without space to put a grand piano in his apartment, Roderich took advantage of the policy, despite the daily commute taking more than a half hour.

Gilbert fiddled with the radio as Roderich got in the car, settling on a station that blasted heavy metal music. Roderich just put his window down and watched everything pass by the car. It was a beautiful day outside, warm and sunny. He smiled and leaned toward the window and the air that whipped past. The sun was hot but the air was cold and he was a little disappointed when they arrived back at his apartment complex.

Roderich led the way upstairs and unlocked his door, allowing Gilbert to walk inside first and lay heavily on the couch. Roderich watched in amusement. “I’ll just get started on lunch then,” he said, opening the fridge. He pulled out a package of sausages from Gilbert’s first breakfast visit and began cooking them on the stove. He reached for the spatula and a hand grabbed his, making him jump.

Gilbert was suddenly there, hand gripping Roderich’s tightly. “You’re making sausages?”

Roderich furrowed his brow. “Yes…they _are_ your favorite, aren’t they?” There was no answer, and then Gilbert swept him into his arms. “Yeah. It’s awesome that you remembered that.” He pressed his lips to Roderich’s without much warning, and the other man melted into it.

It was only their second kiss, but it was evident that both of them had wanted it ever since the first one. Hands roamed for anywhere to rest and bring the other man closer, to feel the closeness of their skin. Roderich forgot all about the meat cooking on the stove and lost himself against Gilbert. Everything about it felt right as he deepened the kiss and Roderich felt a pleasant heat blossom on his skin. _If Gilbert asked me for anything right now, I’d probably say yes,_ Roderich mused, using the part of his brain that wasn’t focused on Gilbert’s lips and his touch and his smell. A hand on his back urged him to slide into Gilbert’s lap and he did just that, trying not to moan as the German man ground their hips together. Everything about this moment was new and different and exhilarating and Roderich couldn’t get enough of it. He was dizzy with desire and drunk off of things he’d never known he was capable of feeling…As the intensity of their make-out session rose toward its peak, the smoke alarm above them suddenly started blaring.

Roderich pulled away almost immediately and grabbed at the pan. “Gilbert, get the window!” He instructed, moving the pan away and to the sink. He began scraping the burnt sausages under the running water, hoping they would stop smoking. Gilbert was fanning the apartment out by waving a towel. He eventually returned to the kitchenette to reach up and turn off the alarm, which Roderich seemed unable to do. He was still in a panicked mode as he watered down the charred meat.

Gilbert grinned. “Roderich, calm down. It’s over. Nothing happened. You’re okay.” He placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders and turned him around. “Relax, Roderich. Just breathe.”

Roderich did as instructed while Gilbert finished scraping the pan.  Despite the smoke that still lingered in some places, the damage had already been dealt with and everything was back to as it had been before. Well, almost. Roderich silently cursed the fire alarm. He wasn’t sure if they’d get a moment like that anytime soon, but he’d enjoyed it while he had it. “I’m sorry they were ruined,” was all Roderich could think to say. Gilbert just laughed. “Let’s go out to eat instead, okay?”


End file.
